


A Friend Indeed

by aghamora



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s02e03 It's Called the Octopus, F/F, First Time, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4977604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aghamora/pseuds/aghamora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In light of Michaela's revelation in 2x03, Laurel decides to lend a helping hand in the orgasm department.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friend Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> Because after that episode this fic just had to be written okay it just had to.

“Still here?”

The question floats in from the doorway of the living room, breaking Michaela’s concentration. She looks up from where she sits on the sofa, case files in her lap, and finds Laurel standing there, with a worried look on her face and steaming mug of coffee in her hand.

It’s half past midnight, and after everyone else jumped ship an hour ago, they’re the only ones left in the office; a blessing, because Michaela doesn’t actually mind Laurel that much these days, but also a curse, because she knows perfectly well what the other girl is thinking.

It’s not like she can’t see the pity in Laurel’s eyes, after the confession she’d been enough of a dumbass to make in front of everyone earlier. That she’d never had an orgasm. Not _one_ single solitary orgasm. _Never_.

Even remembering it now makes her feel pathetic. She’s never going to live that one down.

Feeling heat creep onto her cheeks, she lowers her eyes back to her paperwork. “I… just have a few things left to do.”

Laurel doesn’t reply. She just stands there, cradling her mug of coffee and shifting her weight from leg to leg, almost as if she wants to say something but doesn’t know quite how to put it. Michaela keeps her eyes obstinately lowered, hoping she’ll take the hint and leave her alone – but, just her luck, she doesn’t.

“Michaela…”

The other girl slams the file shut and glares at her. “Look, if you’re here to make fun of me like everyone else, I really don’t want to hear it.”

Laurel blinks, but takes a step inside regardless and comes to stand in the middle of the room.

“I wasn’t. I just thought we could talk about it.”

Michaela sighs, her shoulders drooping. She’s too exhausted to pretend to be angry, and she isn’t – not really. She’s just embarrassed.

No, not embarrassed. More like completely and utterly _mortified_.

“I-I never should’ve even told you people,” she mutters, still refusing to meet Laurel’s eyes. “It’s humiliating. And during sex, all the time with Aiden, when I could never…”

She drifts off, gesturing to her body and trusting that Laurel will catch what she means. The other girl nods, lips pressed together tightly, and takes a seat in the armchair across from her, leaning forward to listen. And yeah, normally Michaela would’ve shut down by now and pushed her away, but the look of compassion in her eyes makes her want to continue, for some reason.

“I just felt like something was _wrong_ with me,” Michaela admits. “Like it was all my fault, and I guess it was.”

Laurel gives her a look of disbelief. “You think it was all _your_ fault?”

“Huh?”

“Michaela, it wasn’t your fault,” she scoffs. “If Aiden never even went down on you or anything, that was on him – not you. Only, like, thirty percent of women can orgasm from just penetration anyway.”

Thirty percent? That makes her feel a lot less… alone. “Really?”

“Yeah. But I – that’s not why I came here. I came here… because I want to help.”

Her words are heavy with meaning, and sensing that, Michaela furrows her brow.

“What do you mean _help_?”

Laurel doesn’t say anything, just looks at her with an expression she can’t quite decipher – but that alone is enough to let Michaela know she isn’t talking about any kind of conventional help, or moral support.

 _Help_? How could she possibly _help_ her with an orga-

Oh.

Oh my _God_.

“W-what, you mean…” Michaela half-cracks a smile, almost as if this is all some kind of joke. “You mean _you_ give me an…?”

A moment passes in semi-awkward silence, which Michaela spends sizing the other girl up and deciding if she should bolt now, before this conversation spirals further out of hand than it already has. Then, finally, Laurel takes a deep breath, reaching out to take her hands in a platonic and yet somehow not platonic at all gesture. Her skin is soft – softer than Michaela could ever have imagined, and she doesn’t know why, but the touch, coupled with their sudden closeness, makes her heart flutter.

Laurel meets her eyes, unabashed. “That’s what friends are for. To help each other.”

“So what?” Michaela tries to spit, but it ends up sounding too soft and breathy to be aggressive. “You’re saying friends should help friends _orgasm_?”

“If they’re twenty-six and never have before in their life, then yeah. Maybe.”

Michaela gapes at her, grasping at straws for some kind of excuse and yanking her hands away. “I… I’m seeing Levi. And you! You’re with Frank, a-and I’m not a lesbian, and I-”

“You don’t have to if you really don’t want to, Michaela. It’s okay. I was just… I don’t know. Trying to help, I guess.”

Laurel shrugs and stands, a tacit acknowledgement of defeat. When she does, Michaela can’t help but notice for the first time how her skirt stops just a few inches too many above her knee; can’t help but notice the long, toned legs underneath, and the way her sweater stretches tight across her breasts, and-

Wait. She’s not _gay_. There was that woman at the sex party, yeah, and she’s not going to lie, she’d been attracted to her for a minute – but for her to be attracted to Laurel? That’s… ridiculous. If she was into girls – or, to be specific, into _Laurel_ – she definitely would’ve realized it by now.

 _Right_?

But then Laurel is standing and turning to leave, turning to leave _her_ – and something compels her to reach out and catch the other girl’s wrist.

“Wait.”

Laurel turns, and for a moment Michaela just takes in the sight of her, hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, clothes rumpled. She fidgets, feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks like wildfire and move lower and lower, across her neck, all over her skin.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued, if she said she didn’t kind of want this. _Her_.

“Okay,” she tells Laurel. “But this is just a one-time thing. It doesn’t mean anything. We’re just friends.”

Laurel nods, an almost businesslike air about her. “Of course. And, you know, this is probably for the better, so when you’re with Levi you’ll know what to expect. It’s pragmatic.”

“Right,” the word bursts out of her mouth, choked and squeaky.

 _Dammit._ She’s Michaela Pratt, for crying out loud. She’s got to get a handle on herself.

“So, um,” Michaela pipes up, squirming again, “how do we… start?”

In lieu of words, Laurel answers her with a kiss; slow and sweet, but not chaste by any means. She kneels before her and pulls her down so their lips meet, tangling a hand in Michaela’s hair that feels shockingly… good. _Really_ good. Laurel tastes like a mixture of coffee and sugar from the lollipop she’d been sucking on earlier, and Michaela opens her mouth wider, allows her tongue in deeper, wanting to drink up every bit of that intoxicating flavor she can.

It’s different, kissing a girl. Softer. Gentler, and she’s surprised by how much she likes it.

But this is _Laurel_. What the hell is she thinking? What the hell is she _doing_? Instinctively, she tenses, and upon feeling that, Laurel pulls back slightly, moving her lips up to her ear.

“Relax,” she urges, slipping her hands up Michaela’s skirt and rubbing her hands soothingly up and down the lengths of her thighs. “You won’t be able to come if you’re nervous.”

All the blood in her body rushes to her groin. Michaela swallows heavily and lies back, spreading her legs slightly to allow her to settle in between them. And there’s something so enticing about the sight of Laurel kneeling there, pupils dilated and lip bitten, leaning in closer, closer, to the delicate region between her legs no one has touched for _months_ …

Michaela whimpers when Laurel’s fingers brush against her lace panties, and the other girl gives a hum of approval as she feels the moisture seeping through them, sticky on the insides of her thighs. She can’t help the surge of arousal that hits her as she watches Laurel’s head vanish underneath her skirt, and feels her kissing her tenderly over her panties, just above her clit. Her tongue darts out to lick her there, and Michaela gasps, reaching back to grab ahold of a nearby pillow.

Aiden had never done _this_. She’d never had any idea how good it could feel – and somehow, she has the sense that Laurel is just getting warmed up.

“Have you…” she pants, back arching towards the delicious heat of her mouth. “H-have you done this before? With a… girl?”

Laurel’s head pops up briefly between her legs. There’s a look of amusement dancing in her eyes, and – okay. Yep. There’s her answer.

She’s just about to start trying to formulate a response to that when suddenly Laurel peels up her skirt, slides off her sopping panties, and tosses them aside, settling her legs over her petite shoulders. And although Michaela had been expecting that – kind of – she can’t help but flinch at the suddenness, the unfamiliarity of it all.

“Aiden would never-” she blurts out, without thinking. “I-”

“I’m gonna make you feel good,” Laurel coos. “I promise, okay?”

Laurel looks up, eyes wide, tentative, seeking her approval to continue. Their eyes meet, and Michaela feels herself practically dripping at the sight of her.

 _I’m gonna make you feel good_. Fuck, that’s so hot she could die.

“Okay,” Michaela whines urgently, clit aching with anticipation. “Okay, yeah.”

Before she has the chance to say anything else, Laurel is leaning in all at once, enfolding her cunt in a deep, wet kiss, and giving a soft moan against her folds. Michaela’s head falls back against the sofa as soon as she does, a high-pitched little cry slipping past her lips before she can stifle it.

And – oh, wow. Holy _hell_ had she been missing out.

Laurel moves her tongue slowly, swirling it around her clit before latching her lips on and suckling at it. Then, she moves her tongue lower, dipping it inside her, before just as quickly pulling it out and teasing around her entrance. The moans and mewls are pouring freely from her mouth, now, and in the back of Michaela’s mind, she’s vaguely aware of how indecent she must look: legs splayed wide, moaning wantonly, Laurel’s face buried between her thighs. Just picturing herself like that only heightens her arousal.

There’s a pressure building between her legs, greater and greater. Laurel has added her nimble fingers now, pressing two of them inside and hooking them just so while keeping her lips on her clit, applying pressure to the little nub in a way that lets Michaela know she _definitely_ has had experience with this before.

“Laurel,” she cries, reaching down to grab ahold of her dark locks of hair. “Oh – oh _fuck_ , I…”

“Do you feel it?” the other girl undertones hotly against her clit, glancing up at her. “Building? More and more… ‘til you feel like you’re gonna explode?”

“Yes! God, I… oh…”

Laurel pauses to suck her clit back into her mouth and moans around it, the vibrations making her positively writhe. She’s gotten close to coming before, of course. Lots of times – but she’s never actually been pushed over the top, and now she’s closer than she’s ever been, that delicious pressure between her legs coiling tighter, tighter. Her whole body is tensing, her forehead covered with a thin sheen of sweat, her toes curling. It’s blissfully unfamiliar, Laurel’s soft, soft lips and her softly-spoken words.

It’s those softly-spoken words that bring her back down to earth, murmuring her to the edge. “Closer… and closer…”

Michaela moans, her body rising off the sofa and towards Laurel’s mouth.

“Th-that’s what I… need,” she chokes out. “Talk. Keep… _ah_. Keep talking.”

The other girl obliges gladly, uttering words of encouragement around the mouthful of her cunt she’s devouring like the finest of honeys.

“Let go,” Laurel coaxes. “Come on, Michaela. I know you can. God, you taste so good…”

“I-” Michaela pants almost hysterically, squeezing her eyes shut. “Please! Please, Laurel, _please_ -”

“Don’t beg for it,” floats up from between her spread legs, the words sharp, firm. It’s so different from the way she usually speaks that Michaela almost doesn’t recognize it as Laurel’s voice for a moment. “Demand it.”

 _Demand it_. That was the one thing she would never do with Aiden: demand. He would finish and roll over next to her, sweaty and spent, and they’d always had an unspoken agreement that that was the end of that. She would broach the conversation, sometimes, but he would always dodge it, or laugh her off. She hadn’t wanted to lose him by pressing; over the years, she’d just mastered the art of faking it instead.

That was the one thing she would never do. Insist. _Demand_. But now-

“Make me come,” she breathes. “Make me come – oh _God_ , make me come!”

Apparently, Laurel knows precisely how to do that on demand.

She thrusts her fingers inside her cunt all the way up to her knuckles, burying them as deep as they’ll go, and grazes her teeth across her sensitive clit, and that combination sends her reeling, practically screaming her lungs out. Her whole body tenses, her hips bucking. Her vision itself whites out for a moment, that blissful, euphoric, incredible release coming to a head, and she lets go – truly _lets go_ , for the first time. It feels even better than she’d thought it would, better than everything she’s ever read, everything she’s ever heard.

She’d never had any idea sex could feel like… _this_.

She’d assumed Laurel would stop her ministrations as soon as she came, but she doesn’t. Instead, she continues thrusting her fingers in and out of her drenched folds, and keeps her mouth on her clit, licking and sucking and lapping her up and prolonging her orgasm for as long as she possibly can. It’s only after she comes down, and her body starts going limp back against the couch, that Laurel finally stops and looks up at her.

“All good?”

Drowsy and shaky, Michaela opens her eyes, and finds Laurel still kneeling before her, her face glistening with her wetness, all the way up to her nose. God, she’s _all over her_. It’s the hottest thing she’s ever seen in her life: Laurel on her knees, face soaked, cheeks flushed. Out of nowhere she has the sudden, vicious urge to grab her head and drag it back between her legs again and never let it go.

“ _Oh_ yeah,” is all she manages to say as she catches her breath. “N… now I get what all the fuss is about.”

Laurel grins and licks her lips. “See? I told you it wasn’t your fault. Maybe you just hadn’t found… the right person, yet.”

Her eyes linger on Michaela’s for just a millisecond too long, and Michaela gets the hint; she may be weak in the aftermath of her orgasm, but she’s not _blind_. Lightning fast, her trembling hands dart out and grab ahold of Laurel, pulling her up to crash their lips together once more in a hot, needy kiss. She tastes herself on Laurel’s lips, sweet and musky, and it makes her shiver, all the way down to her core.

“Again,” she whimpers against her lips. “ _Again_.”

Laurel chuckles and straddles the other girl, settling down into her lap. “Bossy much?”

“You told me to demand,” Michaela says, licking her lips. “I’m demanding _now_.”

“Oh God. I’ve created a monster.” Laurel pulls back, grinning wryly. “Don’t I at least get a ‘thank you’?”

“Teach me how to thank you,” Michaela purrs against her neck as she lays kisses there, hearing Laurel inhale sharply when she does. “Teach me. I’m a quick learner.”

Apparently, that’s all Laurel needs to hear. Within seconds she’s hopping to her feet and pulling Michaela up with her, all but yanking the other girl toward the front door. Michaela follows her without hesitation. Of course she does. Now that she’s had a taste of that kind of pleasure once, all she knows is that she needs more – a _lot_ more.

And judging by the wicked twinkle in Laurel’s eye, she’s pretty sure _a lot more_ is exactly what’s on the menu tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://laurelcasfillo.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
